Enough
by Reinbeauchaser
Summary: Splinter is at his wit's end. Raph's radio is missing. Leo's walkman is, too, and the television is gone. Everyone blames Mike. Who's stealing their stuff? A oneshot. Read and find out!


'**_Enough'_**

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**_Disclaimer _**– _Ah, shoot, don't sue, I don't own anything other than this story. _

_A one-shot inspired by Ramica's recent upload - '**Down Time'** (go read it, it's great). A little quip on Don in that story and his exasperations helped to formulate this missive of mine. It's all in fun and – yes – I know that Don is a little bit OOC at the end, but then, he's had it up to 'here' with his family. Who could blame him, eh?_

_Set in the First Movie genre._

_Enjoy!_

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"Okay, where the SHELL is it?" Raph yelled from somewhere in the lair, "I can't believe it's gone – AGAIN!"

Inside Splinter's room, the concussion from his son's hollering rattled a line of small vases sitting along their ledge. A while back, Don had built the ledge for the ninja master, securing it under one of the windows in the sub-car-turned-bedroom, just so his sensei could display his little collection. All told, there were five vases, each standing like little soldiers, and most showing cracks from wear and tear. Although they were obvious rescues from the local dump, they were gifts from his sons and, so, consequently, the vases meant the world to their surrogate father.

As Splinter eyed the jittering collection of porcelain containers, he mentally tried to will them to stop their wobbly threat of falling. After they finally stilled, the rat sighed and tried to go back to his mediating.

A few seconds later…

"MIKE, so help me, you mess with me, you _PLAY_ with me," Raph bellowed louder.

The sound of someone rifling through things filtered in from the living area into Splinter's bedroom, telling the rat his temperamental son was getting desperate. Suddenly, a resounding 'thump' echoed loudly in the other room.

Had Raphael just upended the sofa, the rat wondered?

Then another louder thump and a collapse of something else caused the master's room to vibrate unexpectedly again. Splinter's eyes snapped open, one eyebrow cocked worriedly as he watched his precious vases vibrate even more, with one 'dancing' precariously close to the very edge from where it stood. It only reminded him for the umpteenth time that his bedroom still sat on wheels from the days when its use was for transportation.

Carefully, the master stretched and reached up, one finger gently and slowly pushing the delicate container back from certain 'death'. Splinter decided that come morning, he would talk with Donatello to see about making the walls in his room thicker and – hopefully – more soundproof.

"_Wouldn't hurt to stabilize the wheels, either,"_ he added to his thoughts.

The rat attempted once again to return to his quiet time.

Not a second later…a crash, then something breaking...then the recognizable sound of glass shattering into a gazillion pieces came to the poor rat's ears. It was further proof that the ninja master would not be meditating unless whatever it was Raphael was trying to find, was found.

Easing his legs out in front of him and taking up his cane, Splinter sighed and slowly stretched from his bed. Planting his feet firmly beneath him, he stood, leaning on his walking stick and sighed again, giving one more glance at his row of beloved vases. He bowed his head to them, promising to find some way to insure their safety, and then Splinter made his way to his bedroom door.

Just as he opened it, though, another voice, just as angry, added to the first.

"Where is it, WHERE IS IT?" Leonardo yelled, as panic clearly etched along each word.

Splinter's eyes widened ever so slightly, not at all used to hearing his eldest son's worried tones. It was perfectly obvious that whatever or whomever had taken – ah – whatever it was everyone seemed to be missing, had been important. The rat started through the doorway - and hesitated, which was a good thing. Since, had he not, an orange-wearing green flash, quickly followed by another green flash wearing red would have bowled him over.

"I'll kill you if you did somethin' to my radio again, MIKE, so help me …I MEAN it!" Raph hollered as he chased his brother down alongside the other subway cars.

Splinter shook his head and muttered something about seppuku and kids. He then courageously attempted to step outside his room once more, only the rat sensed the need to hesitate a second time. Which was, again, a good thing, as the same green-orange and green-red flash whipped by him a second time, only this time going in the opposite direction.

"I didn't take ANYTHING, Raph …" Mikey yelled back, clearly terrified and clearly trying his best not to get caught by the one in red - who seemed to be gaining on him with each stride he took.

Considering their 'race' inside the lair greatly limited exactly how far and how fast they could go before forced to change directions, it wouldn't be long before they would be whizzing by their sensei again.

"GOTCHA!" Raph crowed.

"AHHHH…lemmegolemmego…let . go . of . meyoucrazy…" Mike screamed, obviously now in the clutches of his worse nightmare, his thoroughly ticked-off brother named Raphael.

"NOT…until you tell me…WHERE…you've put IT!" the red-banded turtle demanded, as he shook the one in his clutches.

"Yeah, MIKE, what'd you do with my walkman again?" Leo added to the hubbub, standing with hands on hips as he glared at his youngest brother.

"FOR THE MILLIONTH – TIME…I . DIDN'T . TAKE . ANYTHING!" the youngest brother insisted, as his voice rattled around with Raphael shaking him.

A loud 'harrumph' and an equally louder tap from a walking stick quelled any further inquisitions. The interruption forced the three turtles to about-face and stand at attention.

As Raph dropped Mikey from his grip, Master Splinter sternly asked, one eyebrow cocked and his tail lashing about, "What is the meaning of this?"

Leo offered stuffily, "Michelangelo hid our stuff again, Sensei."

"Did NOT!" Mike protested angrily.

"Did TOO!" Raph and Leo chorused in reply, glaring menacingly at their baby brother.

"NOT!" accompanied by an equally angry glare.

"DID TOO!"

"DID N…"

"ENOUGH!" Splinter barked, interrupting his youngest son's protests, "What proof do you have that Michelangelo took your…things, again?" as he looked at his other two sons.

Not wasting a moment, both said in unison, "He's done it before!"

Nodding in understanding, Splinter now looked at Mikey, "What are they looking for, my son?"

Rolling his eyes in futility, Mike said, "Raph's yelling about his **radio** and Leo said something about his **walkman** – _but **I** didn't take_…"

Splinter raised a paw to silence his youngest. A knowing look crossed his face, as the rat raised an eyebrow, asking, "Have you _ever_ taken their things before, Michelangelo?"

Mike glowered and sighed, realizing where this conversation was going, "Yeah, I used to, but that was _then_…**this** is _now_, and I didn't take anything - - I SWEAR!"

The rat narrowed his eyes at Mikey's tone, forcing the orange-wearing turtle to apologize, "Sorry, Sensei, but it just seems so unfair to be accused like this."

"I'm sure it is, but…" the ninja master replied, then wisely asked, smiling, "you are well aware of the story regarding the crocodile and the fox?"

A puzzled expression washed over Mike's face, shaking his head 'no', so the master then asked, "Hmm…what about the leopard and its spots?"

"Nuh huh, never heard of it," Mikey replied, clueless.

"Hmm…what about the…" realizing he was wasting time, Splinter only said as he shook his head, "Never mind, my son, just go about and help your brother's find…whatever it was they lost."

"We DIDn't lose anything!" Raph declared, "Mike **took**…!"

"And Michelangelo insists that he did not," Splinter interrupted, his anger barely contained, "and until you can prove that he did…" Mikey quietly sighed in relief, "…you will refrain from exacting punishment!" Tapping his cane hard against the lair's concrete floor, the rat then ordered, "Now, all of you will conduct your search QUIETLY and if I hear _one _. _more_ . argument, I will personally hunt for your missing items myself and confiscate them indefinitely - when and if I find them. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

All three heads nodded in unison, with two throats gulping in anticipated dread of losing – for an undetermined amount of time – their precious items.

As the rat turned to leave, he realized one small missing detail, "Where is – Donatello?"

"He's in his room, Sensei, fixing the toaster Raph broke this morning." Mike offered cheerily.

"It wouldn't **toast** right…" Raph complained angrily, steamed at having the topic brought up again.

"Or bow to your greatness, yes Raph, we know, we know…" Leo muttered patronizingly.

"Look, I'm tired of not gett'n my toast toasted the way I like it, 'kay?" Raph threatened a look at his brother in blue.

Hands raised, Leo smiled, "Yeah, but you sure made sure to make sure none of us get any, either!"

Raph clenched his fist and his teeth – and his tail, ready to pop his brother one, when…

"**Enough**!" Splinter called out, quelling yet another argument by his sons. "Don will fix it as he has with everything else that gets – _broken_ – in this lair. Until then, please keep your voices _quiet_!" the rat whispered.

Splinter then turned to go back to his room and as he did, he glanced around the living area. He quickly noticed another missing detail.

"What…has happened to our television? Did that break as well?" He turned towards his three sons, quirking his head as if believing his assumption was correct. It was already obvious by the upturned sofa and a few other displaced items that Raphael had considered all hiding places for his missing radio. It was only logical, then, that the television had met a more suspicious fate as well.

Three pairs of eyes widened with sudden realization as they stared at the spot where their favorite form of entertainment usually sat, but now seemed missing. Until that moment, none of the three turtles had recognized the TV set's absence.

"No, Sensei, it was there this morning," Leo declared curiously, walking quickly over to the small table where the television normally rested. "Gee, did someone break into the lair and rob us?"

"Earth to fearless leader," Raph deadpanned, "We're mutants, why would anyone bother with a simple TV when they could grab one of us!"

"Earth to Raph," Mike mimicked in reply, "We're ninja, they wouldn't be able to."

"Oh, yeah, right," Raph chuckled, blushing just a bit under his green skin. "Still, it's kind of weird that all our electronic stuff is miss…" and then it finally occurred to all of them what might have happened.

"Oh DONnie…" Mike chortled, quite pleased that the attention was now off him again and onto someone else. Leo and Raph also looked over at the door leading to their brainiac brother's quarters.

No answer came, though.

"Hey, Don-san, get yer tail outta yer room," Raph bellowed.

"Raphael, you will keep your voice down, I have had _enough_ of your **_yelling_**," Splinter demanded.

"Yes, Sensei." Raph bowed his head contritely.

With cane in hand, the rat walked over to the sub-car that was Donatello's room. It was actually one-half of a full train car, separated inside at the middle by a wall constructed from discarded wood. The addition of the makeshift wall doubled the amount of room for the small clan of mutants. Don's room was along the left side, while Leo's was on the right side of the car in question. Raph and Mike had a similar set-up further down the tracks, with their sensei's room at the opposite – and usually quieter – end.

Inside his room, Don hummed happily. With headphones pressed against his ear holes, he seemed miles away as he listened to music from his portable walkman, the electronic hooked conveniently to his utility belt. He sat happily at his desk, soldering iron in hand, working a fine thread of liquid metal along a circuitry board. He was clueless to the ruckus going on outside of his room and so he hadn't heard his father's call

Splinter tapped hard on the door, his voice just a bit louder, "**Donatello**?"

Don looked up and scowled, "Someone – calling me?" he wondered to himself. He pulled his earphones off his head, switched his walkman off, and then sat his soldering iron into its holder. He then turned towards the door of his room, just as Splinter called his name for the third time.

As Donnie's bedroom door opened, Splinter looked up at his son and smiled. He was certain his benevolent Donatello would know what had happened to the missing electronics.

"Yes, Sensei?" Donatello asked curiously.

Taking a measured breath, the rat asked, "Do you know where the television is?"

Don looked over at where the set would have normally been and saw that it was missing. Shaking his head, he replied, "No…why?" However, when he saw a look of disappointment on his father's face, he glanced over at Raphael, "Did Raph break it…**_again_**?" he asked through clenched teeth.

Rather startled with Don's somewhat angry and obviously frustrated words, Splinter's eyebrows rose a bit as he replied, "No, it is – just missing, is all."

"Just as well…I was getting tired of fixing it all the time." Don miffed, "But, to answer your question, Sensei, no, I don't know where it is." He looked over at Mikey this time, "Maybe Michelangelo took it into _his_ room?"

Quirking his head at that thought, Splinter smiled, "Probably so," while behind him, Mike shook his head in denial as he muttered insistently, 'I didn't take it. I didn't take ANYTHING!"

Don pursed his mouth a bit, quelling a knowing smile, and then looked back at his father, "I have that toaster to fix, Sensei. Raph pretty much destroyed it when he lobbed it against the kitchen wall this morning." He glared over at his brother in red, " I may have to go to the junkyard to find another one."

"Right...right," the rat said, remembering the incident. For the moment, he seemed satisfied with Don's answer. He then waved him away, "You are dismissed, my son, I am sorry for disturbing you."

"That's all right, Sensei, I don't mind," and then Don ducked back inside his room, closing the door quietly behind him.

As he sat down in his chair to resume his task with the circuit board, Donatello smiled. He glanced once at his bed, thankful he had built it high up off the ground. Originally, he had done so for the sole purpose of having storage units underneath and, for the most part, that was how he used them.

Yet every now and then, they came in handy for other usage – such as hiding things.

In recent months, he had wearied of how destructive some of his siblings could be to the electronics they enjoyed. Having enough of their abuse, he began making a habit of occasionally hiding the oftentimes maligned belonging. He would only do so for a short time, just long enough until he finally felt sorry for his brothers – and maybe a little guilty. Then, Don would sneak the said items backto their rightful place in the lair. It was then when he was truly thankful he was ninja, where he made his returns while everyone else slept.

Although he did feel some contriteness about his odd behavior and he knew Splinter would lecture him if he ever found out, nevertheless, hiding said items seemed to be the only way that Don earned a break from fixing things. It would be just for a little while, anyway, so when his brothers would 'find' their 'missing' radio, walkman, or the television, they would be grateful enough to respect them.

That is –until the next time they broke something.

Yet, Don knew it was only a matter of time before someone discovered his little caper and so hetried his best to enjoy the break for as long as he could. For now, he would put aside his worry, despite the punishment to come. After all, even though Don could fix just about anything and everything, there came a point when enough was enough.

As he continued working with his soldering, Don hummed in mild satisfaction. He could hear an ensuing argument between Leo, Raph, and Mike, with Splinter adding to the melee, and with pointed questions pertaining to 'honesty' and 'integrity', directed towards the youngest member of the clan. Briefly, Don felt a wave of pity for Mike, but then quickly dismissed it.

Suddenly, a shout permeated the rising swell of yelling and the next thing Don knew, the entire line of cars shuttered. It seemed as if someone had propelled themselves into the side of one of the compartments.

A defining quiet followed, but only for a moment. Then, the chink, chink...chink...chink...chink of breaking porcelain and an audible groan from a very frustrated and soon-to-be-pissed-off mutant rat, announced that something – once again – had broken.

"So much for not fixing things," Don sighed.

_Ah yes, the best laid plans of mice and men - or rats and turtles - often go awry._


End file.
